Now he was scared. First, she relented. That didn’t bode well. Secondly, he never ever saw her room. Many of her private quarters and studies, but never where she slept. He couldn’t say no and scamper off, either. If the portals were down, there was no real guarantee that he could escape through them. He had no choice; he had to follow her.

What didn’t help was that Tarvi glided behind them. Her gaze never left him. Azulia didn’t seem to notice, focused instead on climbing the long, winding stairs to her dorm. Kyrik never saw these before; no doubt because she kept them hidden. Each trembling step on the ebony metal made his hearts race. The further up he went, the more the shadows crept closer. Fleshy substance creeped on the corners of the steps and walls. The sensation of being watched made his protofeathers stand on end.

When they came to the entrance, Kyrik balked a bit. It was almost like a bloodied portal, which strangely fit. Organic tissue folded apart to make an entrance just big enough to accommodate. It felt wet and sticky, unlike anything he stepped on before. The air itself was different, like another world awaited.

Inside didn’t make him feel better. It was dark, but he felt soft carpeting under his claws. Lanterns flickered on, revealing a room that was a lot smaller than he expected. It was filled with private books, paintings and lots of jewelry. The bedding in the corner looked so soft, almost inviting him. A violin rested in its case near the far corner, shaped like a wicked axe with a bow akin to a blade.

Artifacts of unknown power were neatly placed around the room. A blue box next to a shimmering orb, for example. However, the one that drew his attention was above her bedding. A long, black spear with red runes along its length. The bladed tip – not unlike a wing of sort - seemed to ooze crimson fluids, disappearing before it dripped more than an inch.

“Bloodletter,” Azulia noted his gaze. “My weapon of choice.”

“Interesting name,” Kyrik chuckled nervously.

“If it strikes someone, they bleed.” Azulia stared at it fondly. “Until they die, of course. Doubt it would work against someone of your skill. Still, I look forward to the fool who earns the chance to see it in action.”

Azulia pulled the head of on a statue bust in the corner and a wall opened with a wet squench. Kyrik shivered before a silent gasp escaped him.

A white robe with gold trimming hung next to a fleshy lever. The same exact as the one the dragon wore in the vision. Here, it was bloodied and torn as if she had been violently stabbed.

“You recognize this?” Azulia asked with a small ‘hm’. “Let me guess, you saw a vortex and were sucked in.”

Kyrik could only nod.

“Of course you did. You should feel honored; the castle doesn’t tend to reveal such secrets to anyone. I sometimes believe it has a will of its own. Vlad did say the architect put his very soul into the work.” Azulia ran a finger down the robe’s length.

Kyrik shifted his gaze behind him. This was wrong; all wrong. He felt it before but now all parts of his brain were screaming at him to get out of here. Travi blocked the exit, and somehow his powers were diluted here. He was stuck! What looked like tendrils of shadow lashed out of the corner of his eye in the darkest parts of the room.

“How much did you see?” She questioned. Although she didn’t face him for a moment, Kyrik felt trembling rage. Her posture wasn’t refined or regal anymore. It reminded him of the trophy room, how she was two seconds away from lashing out. Whatever will she had left must’ve been preventing another transformation.

“Only you with the hydra.” Kyrik blurted out after realizing he hadn’t spoke.

“Ah.” She clicked her tongue. “Less than I thought. I’m slightly disappointed, but alas…” Azulia twirled the necklace in her claw. “Let me ask, how did you think I became…this?” She indicated to herself.

“Curse?” Kyrik guessed. Where was she going with this?

“You could call it that.” Azulia shrugged. “It is an affliction that your kind inflicted upon me.”

“…My kind?” Kyrik shifted his gaze, running over a painting that was semi-obscured. He recognized it from somewhere.

She followed his gaze and moved over to it. “Oh yes. You reapers made me into this. The curse is not of their design, but they left me alive just long enough…”

Azulia paced on hind legs, long serpentine tail twitching. “Haven’t you wondered why I was so kind to you, Kyrik?” He didn’t reply. “Had anyone else sat upon my throne – and yes, I am aware of your actions – they would have been struck down. Your unpermitted entries alone would’ve warranted punishment.

I can assure you, it is not because of you.” Azulia shook her head. “However endearing your demeanor is, it would not have saved you.”

“Then…why?”

Azulia pulled the lever. “You have his eyes.” 

The painting was revealed and Kyrik’s jaw nearly hit the ground. The painting was of him! At least, that’s what he thought at first before he noticed small details. Older, one or two more shoulder spikes; hard to tell from the profile shot. Horns were longer, too. The eyes…they were the same as his!

Underneath, the name ‘Kiruk’ had been engraved.

“They took him from me.” Azulia’s claw curled, her voice a crushing wave of despair and rage. “Left me alive to become this. Alone.”

“I-”

“Don’t say anything!” Azulia whirled around, a crazed glare overtaking the softer features. “There is absolutely nothing you can say! You are a mockery, sent to give me torment. You have his face, everything!” Her face turned somber for a moment. “And you are one of them. How cruel.”

Azulia went quiet, returning gaze to the painting. For the first time since he’d seen the queen, she was sad. The way she looked at Kiruk was one of a lover standing over a grave. Kyrik didn’t need to read her mind to know she was reflecting.

“They took him away from me,” Azulia’s fangs bared, eyes glowing like lanterns in the dark. “So now I’ll take you from them.”

Before Kyrik could react, Tarvi had restrained him. With a growl, Kyrik felt his mask slowly meld into his face. Blade-like tips began to form between his claws as his flesh began to recede.

“I don’t think so.” Azulia appeared before him and placed the necklace around his neck.

Tarvi let him go, and Kyrik’s transformation reversed itself. He tried to pull off the necklace to no avail; it tightened like a noose, constricting his breathing. Something unknown crawled up and down his spine, flooding into every muscle. More and more, he felt his consciousness ebb away.

NO!

He thrashed violently, striking out at Azulia as he ran for the exit. But his legs stopped moving on their own. His body did not obey his commands anymore. Another will overtook his. Barely able to move his neck, Kyrik watched as his body became immobile.

“Oh Kyrik,” Azulia drifted over to him, stroking the feathers on his neck. At her touch, Kyrik felt strangely relaxed. It reminded him of when his mother tried to calm him after a nightmare, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years.

“I’m sure you’ll find your stay here much more enthralling now that you’ve allowed yourself to calm.” Azulia said sweetly. “We’ll find what’s going on, together. And then you’ll stay here, forever. Is that alright? You belong here. No one will judge or fear you.”

Kyrik smiled softly, the last of his will blinking out as he spoke unwillingly. “Why would I ever want to leave?”